strings of your silence
by seilleanmor
Summary: Set in the middle of 2x18 'Boom'. Because when Ellie says she wants to read smut, I can't quite seem to say no.
1. Chapter 1

Here I am dangling,  
from the strings of your silence,  
the end of your kiss.

**Tyler Knott Gregson**

* * *

For Eli, cèol mo chridhe.

* * *

The loft is quiet.

Kate has never, ever, been in the loft when it's quiet before. She's seen loud, breakfast at the kitchen island as she regaled the story of Castle's escapades to his family and poker games with her colleagues that got just a little too rowdy for his living room.

She's never been alone in his loft before.

Well okay, technically she's not alone right now either. But Castle and his family are safely tucked away in bed. They haven't been wrenched from sleep with the lick of fire at the column of their throats and the desperate arrhythmia of adrenaline and finality through their veins. Not like Kate.

Her stupid, stupid body won't stop trembling. Pretty much since Castle basically carried her out of her apartment as the flames caught on her couch and her curtains and her bookshelves, the threads of tension have been wrapping tighter and tighter around her. At her spine, tendrils of calamity kiss each vertebra and her fingers clatter together at the knuckles.

The refrigerator looms in front of her, its shape little more than a blurred omnipresence in the felt darkness of his kitchen. Night brushes against Kate's skin, soothing and cool as it takes her in a gentle embrace. She keeps thinking about Neruda, about hunting through the leaves of night for Castle's hands.

How he'd open them to her, draw her in and let the frenetic wave of her body crash into the cove of his own over and over until she unwound, came apart in his hands. And not even- it's not that she wants him to touch her _like that_, she just feels blistered and raw and more than anything she craves the touch of someone she cares about.

Someone to care about her.

And now she's thinking about his hands on her and his mouth and God, she has _nothing_. Absolutely nothing, and even so a stupid part of her thinks it could cease to matter if she could only let him take care of her the way he longs to.

Tugging open the refrigerator, Kate lets the spill of cold air onto the slate tile lap at her toes, the shock of it climbing up her shins and swelling in her knees. She only came down here for a drink of water and instead she's thinking about Castle. About having sex with Castle.

She pulls a bottled water off of the shelf and unscrews the cap, takes a long drink. The water slips down easily, nourishing her throat where it still feels raw and blackened from smoke damage. Lifting her wrist, Kate glances to her father's watch to check the time.

Only, her father's watch isn't there. She lost it in the explosion. All she has in the world is her mother's ring on a chain warped from the heat and a closet full of smoke-damaged clothes. Her eyes burn with stupid tears and Kate lets them fall, a hot slide down to the precipice of her jaw and a long, heart-stopping drop to soak into the collar of her shirt.

Her breath comes thicker, her lungs already protesting from the smoke and now this. She can't afford to break down. Not in Castle's kitchen, not at three in the morning. If she starts now, lets it permeate right down into the cavernous spaces between her bones, she will never be able to convince Jordan Shaw to let her back onto the case.

The thought of not getting to hunt this bastard down and see his face when they arrest him, take him into interrogation and prove that he can blow up her apartment, he can kill in her name, but he can't ever break her, makes her knees give. Kate lets the counter catch her weight, sagging against it as she heaves in oxygen as best she can through the thick clog of tears.

So focused on keeping her pain quiet that she doesn't even hear him approach, she startles violently as Castle curls his fingers around the top of her shoulder and turns her to face him. Kate lifts her head to meet his eyes and finds she doesn't even have the energy to feel ashamed.

Yes, she's crying in his kitchen in the middle of the night and now she probably looks puffy and red and awful, but so what. He pretty much saw her naked this morning. He saw her sob over the body of the man who killed her mother last month. It just. . . doesn't matter anymore. She's not afraid to be a little bit broken in front of him.

"Sorry I woke you." Kate murmurs, stupidly proud that her voice doesn't break. Her breath shatters in her mouth, coming out shaky and brittle, but it's okay. She can get it together.

Something in Castle's eyes hardens in resolution and he tugs her in, the arm at her shoulder curling around her other bicep to draw her body in against his. She goes easily, settling against the solid warmth of his chest and closing her eyes as his scent lifts up to meet her.

"You didn't wake me. I was already up."

Oh. Huh. So she's not the only one for whom this case is an unwelcome fount of all-too-realistic material for her nightmares. She pulls back just a little, enough to see him, and tries not to read too much into it when he loops his arms at her waist. "You writing?"

"Oh, uh. . .no. No." He flushes, his cheeks pinking up even with the splash of moonlight onto his cheekbones and the swathes of shadow underneath.

Kate raises an eyebrow at him, nudging his arms away from her. They don't do this; he doesn't get to just touch her with no pretence in the middle of the night. "No?"

"I was mostly just worrying about you." He huffs a self-deprecating laugh and tilts his body a little as if he can't bear to witness her reaction to that. It's not exactly a surprise, but she never would have expected him to just come right out and say it. The whole ordeal must have scared him more than he's letting on.

Kate says nothing, her tongue a heavy and useless thing floundering against her teeth as she tries to string together words precious as pearls. Words that will show him how much it means that he cares, without being too much. And then he's turning back, his jaw sharp with determination.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Kate. I can't- if you hadn't been, I-"

"Hey, shh. I know. But I'm okay. I'm here." Kate swallows her pride and reaches for his hand, nudging her slender fingers into the spaces between his own. They knot together at the knuckles and his face softens into a smile as he lifts their joined hands to his mouth and presses a kiss to hers.

Castle grins at her, coming dangerously close to a leer and dear God, it absolutely shouldn't be stirring the first tendrils of want low in her stomach. She is so damaged right now, so beyond not ready to start something. "Well, you wouldn't be without my heroics."

He's not trying to brag. This is just how they operate. This is what he does for her, she even told him as much. Castle brings a levity to her job she never imagined she could find, pulls her pigtails and makes everything just so much more fun. Even the teasing, even the flirting, adds a lightness to her days that she's terrified she doesn't know how to get by without anymore.

Only suddenly, it's not funny. Suddenly it's vital that he know how much she appreciates it. "Yeah. I wouldn't. Thank you, Castle, for saving my life."

"Purely selfish reasons, really. It's in my best interests to keep you alive."

Kate's eyes trip down to his mouth entirely of their own accord, drawn in to the smudge of his lips and the silvery line of a scar at his chin. She wants to kiss him.

Fuck. She's wanted to kiss him before, of course. Long before she ever even met him. but it's never been like this, a visceral urge that tears through her and leaves her helpless in its riptide, clinging to the last vestige of self-control. Her hips cant forward and it's infinitesimal, it's nothing, but of course he sees and he reaches out to steady her, his hands settling in the dip of her waist like parentheses.

Oh God, his hands. They're so big, _so big_, but so stupidly tender too. From what she's seen, admittedly far less than she'd like to, Castle will be reverent when they do this. He will worship her body, and shit, _shit_, she needs it. She needs to feel loved, just for a little while, just so she can bolster enough courage to face the pale woman who glances back at her from the mirror.

"Well, I'd kinda like for you to also stay alive, okay?"

"Kate," he grits out, eyes slamming closed at the soft hum of her response. "Kate, I'm going to kiss you now. You have to tell me to stop, Kate, or I'll have to kiss you."

She swallows, brings two fingers up to skim the hard edge of his cheekbone and down, hovering a moment at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't stop."

* * *

Oh God. She's going to kill him.

He's going to just absolutely die and then he'll be dead and not kissing her, which is what he's doing right now. Not kissing her. He's just gaping like a moron, trying not to feel the touch of her fingertips to his skin because he is just going to-

Well. Yeah. He's about eighty seven percent sure that kissing Kate Beckett is going to be the last thing he ever does on this earth and yes, thank you God. There cannot possibly be a better way to die than to the sweet backdrop of Kate's mouth, the tart ripeness of her lips and the slick glide of her tongue.

Why is he still only _thinking_ about kissing her? What is _wrong_ with him? Here is Kate Beckett, mouth parted and her hand now falling down from his face to cup his neck, her fingers toying with the fine hairs at his nape. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips (and shit even that almost does him in) and she tilts her head as if to say _what are you waiting for_?

So he lifts his hands from her waist and cradles her jaw in his palms, tipping her chin up enough and leaning in until his lips touch hers.

Immediately, his entire world collapses down to fit between the corners of her mouth as Kate opens for him on a sigh, her tongue licking this little stripe of seductive heat along his bottom lip. He growls, his other hand sliding through her hair to cup the back of her skull as he slips his tongue into her mouth. She surges up against his body at the contact, arching onto tiptoe and clutching at his shoulder as she pours her heart into his mouth.

Her tongue is this hot, wicked thing as it rakes along the roof of his mouth, comes back to clatter over his teeth and then she_ curls_ or _twists_ or does something so completely sinful that he swears he blacked out for a moment, has to force his knees to lock.

Castle pulls his lips away from hers and drops his head, suddenly flooded with need. He absolutely has to feel her skin against his mouth right this second. He sucks hard on the thunder of her pulse at her neck, licking and nibbling and kissing the papery skin. And of course, since he's otherwise occupied at her neck, Kate's mouth is free.

To speak.

"Oh shit, Castle. Oh God. Mm, yes, oh _there_. Yesss."

He can't help but press his grin to the underside of her jaw because _of course_ she's loud; of course she has no qualms about directing him exactly where she likes it most. He works at her neck until Kate fists both hands in his hair and tugs him back up to meet her mouth. And now her teeth are catching at his lips, these little nibbles that are unwinding him at his very core, and he needs to touch her.

Kate's wearing a sleep shirt, of course, and he hesitates for about two seconds as he debates whether to just put his hands underneath. Fuck that.

Fisting his hands in the hem, Castle tugs her shirt up to just underneath her breasts and breaks their kiss, settling his forehead to rest against hers. "Can I take this off?"

"No." She breathes into his mouth and he swallows back the crushing disappointment, drops his hands and takes a shuffling step backward. Kate grunts at him and follows his body with her own, draping her hands at his shoulders and nudging her hips into his. "Not in the kitchen."

"But yes in the bedroom?"

She moans into his mouth, then, kisses him again because she _can now_. Well, he can't recall a time where he ever would have had a problem with Kate kissing him, but she _wants_ to. Kate wants him, and he thinks he might throw up or cry or dance across the rooftops, skipping over the canyons of the city on his way to proclaim that the most extraordinary woman he's ever met is kissing him back.

"Yes. Take me to your bedroom, Castle." He nods, clutches at her hand and is just about to start leading her across the living room when the lithe length of her surges up against his side and her mouth finds his ear, tongue laving at the lobe a moment. "And Castle? My shirt better not be the only thing you take off."

* * *

He makes her sit down on his bed and a frisson of pleasure runs up Kate's spine at the push of his hands on her shoulders, the way he guides her. It's not about him dominating her; it's about trusting him to make it good for her. And just from the stunned slackness to his face as he watches her, she knows he's not going to have a problem with that.

Kate shifts backwards in the bed, her fingers curled into the waistband of his sweatpants to pull him with her. Castle crawls up onto the bed and follows her body, coming to prop his weight on his elbow and gaze down at her. "You're in my bed."

"Yeah. Long time coming." Kate arches her neck to kiss him and he smiles into her mouth, his free hand nudging her shirt up to reveal a few inches of milky skin.

He traces circles onto her stomach and huffs a breath of laughter at the contraction of her muscles under his touch, how it makes her shudder. "I certainly hope not."

She can't help but roll her eyes at him even as she curls a hand around the back of his neck and draws him down to her, takes a long drink from the font of his mouth. His kiss is tender now, sweet and aching with restraint. The skin of it ripe for bursting.

A soft moan dips along the hollows and crags of her mouth as he breathes against her, his hand sliding further under her shirt. She's not wearing a bra and Castle seems to find this a fascinating piece of information, abandoning her mouth halfway through a detailed exploration to tug her shirt up and over her head.

There's never been anything to be shy about regarding her naked form, but the sweep of his eyes over her chest brings heat to her cheeks.

"Wow. Just. . ._wow_. Gorgeous." He grits out, his mouth descending to her breast. He presses a soft kiss to her nipple and she jerks against him, fists a hand in his hair to keep him in place. He draws her into his mouth and sucks gently, his hand coming up to pinch and roll her other nipple between his fingers.

Holding out until Kate claws at his shoulder and shudders violently, he switches to lavish the attention of his mouth on her other breast. _Shit_, he's good at this.

"Castle, please, _please_." She begs, doesn't even know what it is that she's asking for. She just needs more, more of the stunning devastation his touch brings for her.

He releases her and comes back up for her mouth, no direction to his kiss as he smudges the lines of her lips with his own and sinks a hand down to toy with the waistband of her leggings. He slips a finger just underneath the fabric at her hipbone, swipes back and forth over her skin.

Kate grits her teeth and circles his wrist in her fingers, holds him still for a moment. "Castle, I need you to know, this isn't because I almost died today, because there's a killer chasing me. You're not just any willing body. You're, well, you."

"I know." He kisses her cheek, the ridge of her eyebrow, her ear. "And while we're being honest? You being jealous of Agent Shaw is, frankly, adorable, but you don't have to be. There's no one but you, Kate."

She's almost ashamed of how much she needed to hear that. He's just been so in awe of Shaw this whole time, her fancy murder board and her team and her equipment. It stings.

Until now, Kate and her team have been enough for him. The thought of losing him to the damn FBI is intolerable, has her blood boiling as she arches up to meet his mouth and slides her hand down. She palms the thick heat of him with no pretence, his sweatpants doing little to hide how desperately he wants her.

His hips jerk into her touch and he groans, long and aching into the dip of her clavicle. "Shit, Kate. Shit."

"I don't want you to think about Agent Shaw while we're doing this." She raises an eyebrow at him, squeezes just a little. Just enough that he growls and surges for her mouth, shifting until his hips are cradled between her thighs and he's rolling them down against her.

"I'll be thinking about you. Just you. How incredible you are."

"See there's the thing." Kate draws her toes up the back of his calf and curls her leg around his thigh, using the leverage to draw him closer still. "I don't want you to think at all."

Castle laughs into her mouth and then he's getting to his knees between her thighs and she opens her mouth to protest but then he curls his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and pulls them slowly, deliberately down her legs. He peppers kisses to the tender skin at the inside of her thigh as he pulls the tights all the way off, his mouth so achingly close to where she wants him.

He falters for a moment and then he crawls up over her, stretching to flick on the bedside lamp and pausing on his way back down between her legs to set his forehead against hers. "Gotta see your face. See what's good for you."

Kate's eyes almost roll back into her head at that because she is absolutely sure that it's _all _going to be good for her and she doesn't stand a chance of surviving this. Her hips jerk up to crash against his own and he laughs, already moving back for the crease of her thighs.

"You want my mouth on you, Kate? You want to let me taste you?"

"Yes. Yes, Castle, please." She murmurs, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she screws her eyes closed and waits. And then she feels the soft hum of his laughter just at her hip, feels him prop his chin at her stomach.

He runs a soothing hand up her side and smoothes his thumb under her eye, waiting until her lashes drift open. "Hey. Relax. Just let me make it good for you."

She nods, draws in a breath and lets it unfurl all through her body, lets her skin soak into his sheets. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He dips his tongue into her navel and drags it down, down, diverting at the last second to suck at her hipbone. "Just let me do this for you."

Kate cards a hand through his hair and lets him nudge her legs a little wider apart, her mouth unfurling into a smile for him. He returns it and then he's shifting to lie more fully between her thighs and his breath is washing over her in waves so delicious that her hips arch against his face and then he lowers his grin and sets it against her.

* * *

_Oh_.

Oh, _Kate_.

She tastes incredible, rich and full against his tongue and still he hardly even has time to relish it because she's jerking against him already, this long string of guttural moans interspersed with something that could be his name just spilling from her lips.

Both her hands are fisted in his hair again, keeping him in place. As if he ever again in his life is going to move from this sacrosanct place at the junction of her thighs. He sucks hard at her clit for a moment, grinning into the slick heat of her as she growls and scrabbles for purchase against his shoulder.

Her body is a livewire writhing in his sheets and he knows she's close. And that in itself is mystifying to him. He wanted to be slow, methodical, map out every plane and curve and valley of her until he knew her topography like an old friend. He wanted a pilgrimage across the expanse of her milky, perfect skin.

But now the rich warmth of his bedside lamp throws her shadow onto the sheets next to her, ever y movement of her body mimicked and magnified and suddenly more than anything in the world he needs to make Kate Beckett come.

He has to know what she sounds like, what she looks like, whether she'll growl a string of profanities at him or stay quiet, back arched high in agonised bliss. Castle flicks his tongue over her clit again, his hand halfway up to join his mouth before he hesitates. "Can I use fingers too?"

"Jesus _Christ_." She whimpers, arching her back and grinding against his face. "Yes. I don't care, just don't stop."

Grinning again, he presses a finger slowly inside her and even as she cries out he's adding another, filling her. He curls them, finds the spot that makes her knees close around his ears and her chest still as her breath catches there and then he just goes, thrusting and sucking and licking and biting and absolutely just drowning in the noises she makes.

"Oh _fuck_ Castle fuck fuck fuck yes please don't stop please oh God _Castle_." She growls and then her whole body clenches around his hands and she jerks like a marionette against him, her strings snapped as she shudders and writhes and curses at him.

Eventually, once she stops shaking, Castle draws his fingers out of her. The loss of him sends another tremor ripping through her, a quiet whimper escaping her chest. Eyes still closed, he watches the flutter of her lashes onto her cheeks as she searches for breath, her whole body limp.

He grins, sliding up the bed to stretch out next to her and support his weight on his elbow, lean down to kiss her forehead. "Wow. You okay?"

"Yeah. More than okay." She manages a smile, arching her neck to kiss him. And then suddenly shy, she buries her face against his neck and hums, pressing tiny kisses to the smooth patch where his stubble doesn't quite come in.

"We don't have to carry on if you don't want to, Kate." He says quietly, carding a hand through her hair and trying desperately to ignore the surges of desire in his own gut, how uncomfortably hard he is now.

She pulls back to stare at him, her jaw slack, and he takes the opportunity to cradle her face and marvel at how utterly breathtaking she is. She frowns, then, turning her head to kiss his palm almost distractedly, almost as if it's habitual.

"Do you want to stop?"

"_God_, no. I just thought it might be a step too far for tonight. An hour ago I'd never kissed you before; I'd understand if you didn't want to take this further."

"Okay." She nods slowly, presses two fingers to the cleft of his chin. "And what if I _did_ want to take this further?"

Castle kisses her again. Slowly, thoroughly, letting her taste herself all over his mouth as he slides a hand underneath her body and circles his thumb at her spine. Somehow, he's still fully dressed, and he burns to feel her skin against his.

"Then I'd tell you that maybe you should take my shirt off now."

She laughs at him even as she tugs his shirt over his head and drops it to the floor beside the bed, smoothing her hands down his chest on the way to his pants. She doesn't even bother with touching him through his clothes, now, an urgency settling over both of them that has her shoving his pants down his hips and caressing his bare skin.

He jerks into her touch and grits his teeth, reaches down to pull her hand away. "I absolutely cannot last if you do that. I just need to be inside you. Is that okay?"

"Jeez, Castle, again with the questions. Are you ever going to just surprise me?" She smirks at him, stroking over him again in spite of his warnings.

He groans and presses his forehead into her clavicle, chokes out her name. "I just want to make sure you're okay with this."

"Hey," she cups his cheek, draws him up to look at her. "I'm fine. I trust you, Rick."

And it's that, somehow, that undoes him. He grapples for a condom in the nightstand and rolls it on, settling in the cradle of her thighs and dusting a kiss over her mouth. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Wait, wait." Kate murmurs before he can press into her and he falters, searches her face for some clue. She grins wickedly at him, lifting her hips until they nudge against his own. "I want to be on top."

He lets her roll him over and straddle his lap, sitting tall and glorious astride him. She lifts up a little and wraps her fingers around him, guiding him to nudge at her entrance. He's about to open his mouth and reassure himself that this is really what she wants and then she sinks down onto him, head thrown back on a groan.

Half of him expects her to just ride him with wild abandon but she surprises him, leans down until her breasts are flattened against his chest and her hands cup his face. And as she starts to move, short little thrusts that drive him wild, she takes his kiss too.

And oh, God, she feels _amazing_. Tight and hot and perfect and he wants this to last forever, wants to always be surrounded by the tang of her scent and the softness of her skin and her murmured encouragement in his ear. He sets his hands at her ass, thrusting his hips up every time she sinks down and meeting her in the middle. She groans into his neck, her breathing ragged, and he really can't take much more.

"Kate, how close are you?"

She clenches around him at the sound of his voice, a tremor rippling down her spine. "Shit. I'm almost there, just- harder." She pants against him.

Castle closes his eyes and drives his hips harder into her, tries to focus on the rush of traffic outside the window and the hum of the appliances in the kitchen rather than the divination of God suckling at his pulse and sheathed around him.

He grips harder at her ass and shifts her hips, finds the angle that draws a string of barely discernible curses from her as he thrusts and thrusts and surges of bliss are already pulsing through him and Jesus Kate come on _come on_. He opens his eyes in time to see her snake her own fingers down her stomach and circle them over her clit, her fingertips just brushing the place where they're joined.

She sees him, watches him watching her and apparently that's enough because her thrusts become suddenly sloppy, her throat working over silence as she grinds her hips down into his lap and her thighs tremble. And finally, finally, he spills inside of her in a surge of absolute perfect release and joy and oh God he's in love with her.

He sucks at her earlobe to stop himself from saying it, speaking the words he's only just realised. God, of course, he's such a fucking idiot. Of course he loves her.

How could he not?

* * *

After Castle comes back from the bathroom, he crawls into bed and tugs the sheets up over them both, his arm falling heavy around her waist as he tugs her in close.

Kate turns to glance over her shoulder at him, kissing the smudge of his mouth before she settles back to the pillow and closes her eyes. His mouth finds her ear and he speaks softly, throat a little raw with his cries. "I want you to know that you're welcome here for as long as you want to stay. And that you staying here doesn't mean. . .a repeat performance. Not if you don't want. You're welcome to the guest room."

"That's very sweet of you Castle, but-" she pauses long enough to watch the drift of panic across his face, just so that she can kiss it right off of him. "I don't think I'll be needing your guest room."

He grins, his eyes closing even as he tries to drag them open and see her. He murmurs a tiny sigh, wriggling a little to get comfortable and then sagging, already halfway to unconsciousness.

"And Rick?" Kate hums, gets barely a sigh from him in response. "I'll definitely be wanting a repeat performance."

* * *

**A/N: Phew, okay! Clearly I am powerless when faced with Eli's requests (read: cajoling, pleading, threatening). Thank you to TMC for your immeasurable support as always and to Julie, who once upon a time reblogged a gif that sparked the second half of this chapter in my mind.**

**And thanks to you, all of you out there that take the time to read and review. I cannot say how much I appreciate it. **

**Tumblr: **katiehoughton

**Twitter: **seilleanmor


	2. Chapter 2

**strings of your silence**

* * *

Castle tails her to the elevator, his enthusiasm at the prospect of buying an FBI car so infectious that there's nothing Kate can do to hide the grin. Oh she tries, sure, but he sees the dip of her head and the slow stretch of joy across her face. When the elevator doors slide closed on them, he stands just a little closer than he normally would, dares to stretch out his index finger and brush the back of her hand.

All day, he's been catching the taste of her underneath his tongue at random moments, the intermittent shards of quiet between their theory building full up with the gorgeous moans that bloomed from her throat. He wants her, all the time anyway, but she almost died _again_ just a little while ago and he wants to affirm both of their lives.

Celebrate. A job well done, yes, but also maybe. . .the start of something. He doesn't know.

He overheard Agent Shaw just now, telling Kate that he cares about her, and he almost wanted to interrupt and tell her it's so, so much more than that. It's not that he cares about her. It's that he went into a burning building, shot at an armed serial killer to save the life he's quickly realising he'd give his own to protect.

"Um, Beckett? Are you staying at the loft again tonight?"

Startled eyes meet his own and Kate's jaw slackens with shock and maybe a little apprehension, he thinks. "I. . .was going to, yes. If that's okay?"

"Yes, yeah. Stay." He grits out, flames curling up the column of his spine as he watches his mouth. God, he wants her. So badly. "Can I kiss you?"

He gets a nod from her, more timid right now than he's ever seen her. And he knows it's mostly because her whole life went up in flames only a couple days ago and the foundation upon which she stands is shifting beneath her, but this isn't what he wants.

She should be sure about this, about them. As sure as he is.

Castle uses the brush of his mouth to draw a smile from her, touching his tongue to the corner where her lips meet and then moving to nibble carefully at her bottom lip, light kisses that burst open between them as if they're ripe. The elevator doors open right as Kate lifts up to press the whole length of her body to his and she startles, drops back down and strides out of the elevator car.

It takes him a moment, but he follows.

* * *

In the cab on the way to his loft, she keeps shooting him these hot little glances like she doesn't understand what he's doing so far away from her, but all he offers her in return is a tender smile. He won't kiss her again.

Not before he's made sure that she knows he's not kidding around here. He _wants_ her, not just her amazing body but also her sharp mind, quick wit, her compassion. They could be really, really great together, he's sure of it. He's just not sure that Kate is.

He takes her hand in the elevator on the way up to his loft, draws her in close to his side and kisses her temple. Her wrist is circled by her father's watch once more, but the gauze makes her look fragile and thin, the bulk of the thing overwhelming her.

Faltering in front of the door, Castle tucks a loose strand of Kate's hair back behind her ear and comes in to kiss her cheek, can't help a quiet bubble of laughter when she sighs in disappointment. Uhuh, Kate. Easiest way to get her to agree to go all in with him is to drive her crazy beforehand, make her want him so bad she'll say yes to anything.

Her eyes meet his and she smiles softly, squeezes his fingers where they lace with hers. "Your daughter home?"

"Yeah. That okay?"

"Mm-hmm." She grins, and then she reaches out and opens his front door herself.

Castle keeps a tight hold of her hand, feels the thread of tension weaving through her when she sees both his daughter and his mother waiting at the kitchen counter.

"Oh Richard, Detective Beckett, darlings you're just in time. I made dinner." His mother lifts a takeout carton and it takes everything Castle has not to roll his eyes. Instead, he ushers Kate towards the island and gestures to the stool next to his daughter, moves to the rack to grab a bottle of wine.

"Mother, what are you doing here?" He says, shares a look with Kate that makes her dissolve into laughter. Alexis shoots Beckett a startled look and she sobers, chews at her lip.

Mm, how he wants to draw that lip into his mouth and lave his tongue over it until she sighs and curls her arms around his neck.

His mother glares at him, flicks her wrist in dismissal. "Well we're eating, you know, something families do a couple times a day."

"Hi Dad, Kate." Alexis grins, shifts in her seat so her bicep brushes Kate's elbow, the detective's arms folded as if in self-defence.

Rick feels horrible about it, he really does, but he wants them gone. His mother and daughter both. He wants to be alone with the woman he loves, the woman whose pupils are slowly swallowing the vibrant green of her eyes as she watches him.

"Hi. So, uh, what about Chet?" He says, feigning nonchalance as he sets a glass of wine in front of Kate and takes a long sip of his own.

"Well darling, I never said I was going to be chained to the man's side. Besides, Martha Rodgers is a woman of mystery and in order to maintain that I'm going to have to divide my time accordingly."

Alexis grins at her grandmother, casting her eyes sideways to glance at Beckett before she takes a mouthful of food. Rick knows his daughter has always been a little intimidated by the cool, smart detective. Maybe now, though, Kate will be around more and Alexis will grow more comfortable in front of her.

"Like having dual citizenship." His daughter says, her whole face flooded with pride when Kate laughs at her joke.

"Exactly. Besides, it's better for my relationship with Chet, so if I have to eat a few meals a week and do all of my laundry here we'll just have to make that work." His mother seems so smug about this that Castle can't help but roll his eyes, most of his attention channelled into figuring out how exactly he can get his mother and daughter to leave without explicitly asking.

"I think that sounds like a fine plan." Alexis says, thankfully sliding off of the barstool and coming around to throw away her takeout carton. She arches up onto tiptoe and presses a kiss to her father's cheek, hovering a little longer than normal.

An astute kid, he knows Alexis was worried about him. And Kate too. He'll have to talk it out with her later, make sure she's still okay with him spending his days at the precinct. And if not, well. . .as long as Kate comes home to him, there's nothing more he needs.

"Alright, darlings, well I suppose I should head off back to Chet's place. Alexis, want to share a cab?"

"Where are you going?" Castle whips around to stare at his daughter, sees Kate watching him from the corner of his eye. She's a little too quiet for his tastes; he hopes it's just because of his family's presence and not that she's becoming mired in doubt about them.

Alexis laughs at him, shakes her head. "I'm sleeping at Paige's tonight, Dad. Gram and I figured that you and Detective Beckett might want some alone time."

"Alexis, we're not-" Kate splutters, slams her mouth closed when Castle meets her eyes. Like hell they're not. Too late to go back now, Kate. She said she wanted a repeat performance.

Castle curls an arm around his daughter's shoulders and tugs her in to his side, presses a smacking kiss to her forehead. "Kate and I have a lot to talk about, yeah. That's very sweet of you to offer to go, but you can stay if you want to."

"No, I don't mind. Paige and I have an English assignment to work on anyway." His daughter shrugs, stepping away from him to snag her bag from the couch and wait for her grandmother.

Castle's mother kisses both of his cheeks and then moves to Beckett, draws her into a careful hug. And even despite her obvious discomfort, Kate's arms come up to wrap around his mother's waist in return. When Martha eventually lets her go, Kate seems a little shaken, and then it hits him.

When was the last time she had a hug from a mother?

Oh God. Oh Kate. She's so beautiful tonight, here and alive and still a little flushed with arousal. More than anything in the world he wants for her to never hurt again, to be the one to keep her safe and make her happy.

His mother and daughter finally leave and Castle rounds the counter to settle at the stool next to her, reaching out for her hand. "You hungry?"

"Not really. Tired."

Curling an arm low around Kate's waist, he draws her closer and settles his mouth at her cheek, breathes her in. underneath the scent of her perfume and the precinct, there's the sharpness of smoke and adrenaline. Every time he closes his eyes the explosion plays out in his mind again.

"You know, I have a pretty huge bathtub. You're welcome to it." Rick murmurs, slipping back off of the stool and holding out a hand to Kate. She takes it, quirking an eyebrow at him as she follows him through his bedroom to the bathroom.

He feels her falter and turns to look at her, has to laugh at the awe on her face. "Wow. You weren't kidding."

"I see how it is, Detective. Using me for my bathroom facilities." He huffs out a sigh, drops her hand to begin filling the bathtub and also, yeah, give her a little time to adjust.

The touch of cool hands at his waist, somehow inside of his shirt, makes him startle and he bites down hard on his tongue as he tries not to choke. Her mouth brushes the shell of his ear, nimble fingers sliding up his chest to circle his nipples. "Not the only thing I wanna use you for, Castle."

"Kate-" He chokes, somehow manages to turn around. He burns to crush his mouth to hers, but first he has to make it clear to her that he needs more than sex, more than a fling. "Oh God, Kate. Kate. You're killing me. I want you so much."

"Then take me." She murmurs, lifting up on tiptoe (when did she take off her shoes?) so her breasts are crushed against his chest, their hips and thighs and stomachs kissing.

"No, I want _you_. I want to do this with you. I want to be yours. If you'll have me."

She laughs at him, brings her palms up to cup his cheeks, but then she seems to sober as she realises how serious he is. "Castle, I'm not going to be any good at this. I'll mess up. I'll try and push you away when I get scared."

"You think I don't know that?" He raises an eyebrow, finds it absolutely futile trying to resist any more so he pushes a kiss against her mouth. Kate surges into him immediately, her tongue already slicking along his and he unleashes a moan into her mouth, clutches at her shoulders. "I know you. I'm not great at this either, Kate. But we'll figure it out together. It's worth it."

"Okay, yeah." She grins into his mouth, her fingers busy at the buttons of his shirt. He peels her own up over her head and drops his mouth to the tender skin of her breast encased in lovely black lace, sucks at the thunder of her pulse.

Rick turns off the faucet and strips off the rest of his clothes, steps into the bathtub so the scalding water laps at his ankles. He sinks down slowly, hisses a breath through his teeth at the too-hot touch of the water all around him. When it's bearable, he leans back against the cool slope of porcelain and rests his arms against the lip of the bathtub on either side of him, tries to look unassuming.

The gorgeous woman in front of him slowly peels off her pants and underwear, unhooks her bra and steps into the water with him. Apparently the temperature is nothing she's not used to because she doesn't even have to take a moment, just sinks all the way down to settle in the cradle of his thighs.

Head falling to rest in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, Kate's eyes slip slowly closed and her lashes drift like shadows over the pale moon of her face. Soft, pliant lips spread into a slow smile and she hums, wriggles a little as if she's getting comfortable.

So devastatingly beautiful that he can't hold off any longer, he brings one palm around to nudge under her arm and span wide across her stomach, holding her close against him. With the other, he touches two fingers to her jaw to turn her face a little more into him and dusts his mouth over hers.

When their kiss crumbles around her smile, she brings her knees up to her chest and tilts to the side, almost curled into his lap. Her grin meets the hard edge of bone at his jaw as she buries her face against him, suddenly timid. "This is kinda weird."

"Good weird though, right?" He murmurs to her, kisses whatever skin he can reach. Her cheek and then mm, slipping down to the ridge of her clavicle, the graceful curve of a shoulder.

Kate nods against his chest, her fingers playing with his as if she's surprised to find him here. "You saved my life today."

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Kate. I'm so glad you're okay." He grits out, knows she must feel the ripple of tension through him. Even with the touch of their naked skins, her body smooth like a river stone against his, panic clutches hard at the ladder of his ribs every few moments. He has to keep reminding himself that she's here, she's okay, she didn't die.

Getting to her knees, Kate straddles him in the bathtub and cradles his face in her palms, pushes the warm wetness of her tongue into his mouth. He opens for her with no pretence, lets her thoroughly convince him that she's okay. Her hand snakes down to find him hard and wanting and nimble fingers caress him over and over.

When he groans and crashes his forehead into hers she laughs, peels one of his hands away from her waist and guides him up to her breast. It's all the hint he needs; he rolls her nipple between two fingers and drops his lips to her other breast, scatters kisses to the flesh where she's swollen with want before he takes her in his mouth.

The whimper that spills out of her is even more incredible than he remembers and he slides his other hand down, seeks out the slick heat of her. Castle circles his thumb over her clit and grins against her breast when she jerks, presses a little harder until she groans.

"Castle, more. Please. Now." She grits out, wrapping her hand around him and lifting up on her knees. When she sinks down he has to hold his breath, eyes screwed tightly closed because she just feels so completely amazing and he never, ever wants to move away from the pale lines of her body.

Her hips meet his and Kate clutches at his shoulder, her other hand cupping his cheek to guide his mouth towards hers. It's tender and sweet and exactly the sort of kiss he's been wanting to give her for such a long time now. Kate lifts up and then slowly sinks back down onto him again, warm and lovely and so good.

"You feel incredible." He whispers, marvels at how the water makes her buoyant against him. Laughing, Kate squeezes her internal muscles around him and he jolts hard, his hips crashing up into hers.

"Castle." She hums, lacing her arms over his shoulders as she rides his lap lazily. Unhurried and magnificent, the way she moves with him. Her nose rests at his cheek and her hot breath curls underneath his jaw, this thing between them so rich with meaning tonight. "Castle, thank you for being there."

"Nowhere else I'd want to be." He assures her, hopes it says enough for now. She's not ready to hear the words he wants to say, and he doesn't really want to give them to her. Not like this, with the spectre of death still looming over them.

No, when he tells her he loves her it will be over a shared cup of coffee watching the spill of sunlight over their sheets. Or maybe curled on the couch watching a movie, in the park one lazy summer's afternoon. When he says it, it will be because he can't help himself anymore.

Until then, the way he touches her will suffice. Castle's hands slip up and down her spine and he crushes her to his chest, feels the first spirals of release uncurling slowly in his gut. "Are you close?"

"Mm, yes. Kiss me again." She smiles, brushes their mouths together and grinds down a little harder against him. Her movements are sloppier now, less rhythm to them, and when Castle snakes his hand down to circle her clit again she growls. "Harder."

He does, the press of his thumb and the lift of his hips into hers and the force of his kiss all at once until she's sucking his earlobe into her mouth and coming with almost no noise at all.

It's so completely different from yesterday, a contradiction in every way to the frenzy of their first time, and just from having her twice he knows he'll never, ever get bored of having Kate Beckett in his bed. Not that he really doubted, but even so it's good to have confirmation.

She carries on moving for him and his own release is potent, powerful, has him groaning into her neck and then relaxing back against porcelain warm with the shared heat of their bodies. Kate slumps against his chest and circles her arms at his waist, offers him a shy smile. "Wow."

"Yeah, wow. You're gorgeous, do you know that?"

"Not so bad yourself, Rick." She laughs, easing up off of him and stepping out of the bathtub. He watches the fall of a water droplet all the way down from the crease of her hip to the hard slate of bone at her ankle, wants to trace its path with his mouth. Kate casts a long look over her shoulder at him and then holds out a hand, almost has to catch him in his haste to follow. "Help me dry off?"

Yes, yes. Whatever she wants.

* * *

**A/N: Eli, ****a ghrádh gaol. Tha gaol agam ort.**


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